Drink With Me
by beakanoma
Summary: Jed shares a drink with Robert and gets more than he anticipated.


**Title:** Drink With Me

**Fandom:** Red Dawn (2012), Jed/Robert

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Author's Note:** Based on a [BLANK] ME prompt. In this instance it was "DRINK ME – write a drabble about characters drinking, alone or with each other." Basically an excuse to write Josh Hutcherson and Chris Hemsworth making out.

** Drink With Me.**

He finds Robert sitting off on his own in the dark. Jed's noticed he does that a lot lately.

"Hey."

Robert jolts, surprised, and Jed swallows back an admonishment for letting his guard down. The guy's having a hard time of it, more than the others even. Not everyone's cut out for being a soldier, Jed certainly knows that. Robert doesn't need to be constantly reminded of his shortcomings.

"You all right?" Jed asks.

"Fine," Robert answers.

His voice is heavy and he takes a second to wipe his face on his sleeve before turning around. Jed's never seen crying as a sign of weakness, but he doesn't comment. If Robert isn't going to mention it, neither will he.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to say you've been doing a great job," Jed tells him. "Made a lot of progress. You should be proud of yourself."

Though he scoffs, Robert sounds hopeful when he asks, "Really?"

"Definitely," Jed grins. He moves closer and offers Robert a bottle. "Here. Drink with me."

It's a wine cooler. He grabbed a case during their last rations raid. It was stupid and impulsive. He's been doing his best not to kick himself over it. He hasn't had anything stronger than water in weeks, though, and if ever he's need for a drink it's now.

"To days gone by?" says Robert, taking the bottle.

Confused, Jed replies with an uncertain, "Sure?"

"Sorry," Robert says. He pops the cap and tosses it to the forest floor. "It's - it's a line from _Les Misérables_."

"Say that one again?" Jed laughs.

"_Les Misérables_," Robert repeats. "It's French for 'The Miserable Ones.' It's a musical."

"Mm. Never really got into those."

For several minutes, they drink in silence.

"You never gave your answer," Jed notes. "What you miss most."

Sadness crosses Robert's features briefly before leaving them set hard and grim. Too late, Jed realizes how loaded that question can be for someone like Robert. An orphan of the occupation. He tries to think of something to say. How he understands what Robert's going through. That if he needs someone to talk to, well, Jed's always not great with stuff like that, but he can try...

"My iPod."

"Huh," says Jed. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Robert answers. "I miss music. I had, like, hundreds of gigs of music. All gone now."

"It might still be there when you get back," Jed tells him. Robert shrugs. "Tell me more about this, um. _Les Mizerblahb_."

After staring in a way that tells Jed that he definitely didn't say that right, Robert says, "You can just call it _Les Miz_. Most people do."

"It's a hard one to get your mouth around," Jed chuckles before taking another swig.

It's difficult to tell in the dark of the woods, but Jed could swear the comment makes Robert blush. It definitely plants a small grin on his face.

"Yeah," Robert says, his voice cracking. He clears his throat loudly. "Yeah, it's a, um, tough one."

"So what's it about?"

"It's about - Well, it's about a lot of things. There's this one part I keep thinking about lately. It's where that line is from. There's this bunch of students, barely more than kids, who try to stand up against the oppressive ruling government. And fail. Miserably."

"Is that what you think is happening here?" asks Jed, hackles rising a bit. "You think we're failing?"

"I don't know," mumbles Robert.

Perhaps it's slight buzz from the alcohol or Robert's defeated tone that stirs something in Jed. Whatever it is, it makes him place a comforting arm across the shorter boy's shoulders.

"We're doing good work," Jed assures him. "We have the enemy on his toes. Given our limited resources and numbers, I don't think we're doing so bad. Sometimes a thorn in the paw is all it takes to slow a lion down enough for somebody to take him out."

Robert nods and shifts on his feet, moving into Jed's half-embrace. He knew Robert was short, but it didn't occur to Jed just how short before now. The top of the younger man's head fits almost perfectly under Jed's chin. Jed also didn't realize how close they were, or notice the arm Robert slipped around his waist until it squeezed.

"Thank you, Jed," Robert says. Although his voice is barely above a whisper, it's easy to pick out among the night sounds of the woods. "Everything you've done, for us, for me, I..."

He slides away, just enough to look up at Jed. His face is partially obscured by shadows, but Jed can read his expression plainly, even in the dark. That earnest, imploring expression. He's seen it on Robert's face before, though never so brazenly.

They shouldn't. For a number of reasons, starting with they're in the midst of a war, ending with the knowledge that Robert is still in high school, and how emotionally fragile they both are thrown somewhere in the middle. Jed shouldn't. He knows better, and he's supposed to be the one in charge here. He knows, and yet the urge is overpowering. Like the day he grabbed that case of wine coolers. He's been so selfless for so long.

Right here, right now, Jed wants to be selfish.

He dips his head low. He's used to being taller than most. Still, Robert is fairly short. The younger man must compensate somehow, perhaps on his tiptoes, because their lips meet faster than Jed anticipated. He's caught off-guard himself now, and their first kiss is more of a crash than anything else. The next, because there's no sense stopping now and he doesn't think he could peel Robert off if he tried, is far better. Robert's arms come up around Jed's neck as Jed tugs him closer by his waist.

It's been so long. So long since they've been invaded and longer than that since Jed's been this close with another person. His throat is dry and his lips are chapped and his feet are always cold lately but for the first time in ages he feels good.

At least until it begins to rain. Not heavy, more of a misting really, but enough to slick their chins as they rub together. He pulls away, eliciting a disappointed groan from Robert that Jed echoes softly.

"We should get back," Jed says. "The rain…"

"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now," Robert mutters breathlessly.

Still confused by the young man's odd references, Jed asks, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means shut up," says Robert, pulling Jed back, "and keep kissing me."

Diving in for another wet kiss, Jed decides dimly that he might have to rethink his stance on musicals.

**End Notes: **Be sure to follow my Twitter and Tumblr (MisterKevo) for updates about future writings, including the book I'm working on!


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